Ground Control, a supernatural fanfic

GROUND CONTROL

a/n NOT SLASH. Okay, maybe. If you squint your eyes. Reeeeeeaallllly hard. Okay, maybe not that hard. But I prefer it to be just Dean coming to better understand that oblivious angel we all love. *grin*

Dean didn't really like David Bowie. He could vaguely understand what made him appeal to others. But Dean was just not a David Bowie man.

But a couple lines from that damn David Bowie song were running through his head, over and over and over.

"Shit!" Dean finally exclaimed, and pumped up AC/DC louder. But the friggin' lines wouldn't get out of his head. With an angry groan, he punched the button and all the music stopped. The silence was deafening and actually woke Sam up from his slumped position in the passenger seat.

"Whuh's goin' on?" Sam mumbled, rubbing his face, trying to wake up.

Dean just shook his head and gritted his teeth.

Ground control to Major Tom...far from the world, planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do...though I passed one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very scared... Ground Control to Major Tom - your circuit's dead. Something's wrong...

It had been four days, and that jack song was still stuck in his head.

What the hell? Why was he remembering it? Why couldn't he get it the hell out of his head?

Dean sat glaring at a pile of books on the motel table. He was supposed to be researching how to kill something called a "Mato'ok", but instead he was just trying to get the freaking song to STOP.

Looking down at the pad of paper under his hand, he realized that, over and over and over, he had been writing the lyrics he couldn't make go away. Crumpling up the paper, Dean made a three-pointer into the wastebasket by the door.

Five minutes later, the paper was filled again. With the same damn lyrics. Dean had the sudden urge to find an ax and use the line "Here's Johnny!"

Giving up on getting any real research done, Dean stood.

"I'm gonna go for a ride."

Sammy barely looked up from his laptop, engrossed in whatever he was reading. "M'kay."

It wasn't until Dean was halfway out the door that Sam finally seemed to realize Dean was leaving. "Dean!"

"What?" his big brother growled, an annoyed scowl on his face.

Sam shrugged, recognizing the bad mood and not wanting to become the target. "Nothing. Could you bring me back some coffee?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sure, bitch. I'll pick it up on my way back. But I make no promises when the hell that'll be."

"Jerk," Sam responded out of habit, then frowned back at Dean, deciding it was worth becoming a target if it meant Dean wouldn't be out all night doing God only knew what. "Don't get drunk, don't pick up any chicks, and don't get in any bar fights."

This actually got Dean to laugh. "Who the hell's the big brother here exactly? Those are my lines, asshole. Later."

With a wave of his hand, Dean was out the door and headed back to the car.

As he drove, the sweet purr of his baby drove away the annoyance and he finally just considered those specific lyrics.

Why were they the ones he remembered. This time when they echoed in his head, he pulled over and actually listened.

"Cas," he whispered, eyes shooting open. The whole damn song reminded him of Cas! The idea of someone hundreds of thousands of miles away from their home, who can't do anything but trust in the people in charge. Someone who is worried about not really understanding anything. And then getting cut off, and being stuck trying to complete the originally assigned mission, while unsure how or if they would ever get back home.

"Dammit, Cas," he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers and thumb.

"Yes?" came the calm, unruffled reply from the back seat.

Dean jumped and spun, then glowered down at the angel in the back seat. "Shit, Cas! Don't DO that!"

Cas tilted his head, confusion puzzling his forehead. "I have done nothing to offend or anger you, Dean."

Dean shook his head and sighed. "I've told you before, it gives me a friggin' heart attack when you pop up in the back seat like that. What the hell are you here for, anyway?"

Castiel frowned. "I was just about to ask you the same question. I was under the impression you and Sam were "hunting something". Yet you are sitting in your car and doing nothing. How is this conducive to the job?"

Snorting laughter, and trying to push the thoughts of Cas and the song from his head, he rolled his shoulders. "I needed some air."

"Dean, I assure you that there is likely more air in a motel room then in this car," Castiel responded, in a gentle monotone.

"That's not-" Dean sighed. The phrase was not something he was willing to take the time to explain to Cas right now. He stared at the angel in the rearview mirror. "I was actually just about to head back to the motel when you poofed in." That was a word Dean was sure he'd explained before.

"Oh."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why are you suddenly all "Go Team Hunters", Cas?"

Castiel didn't answer, instead turning his head away. And Dean suddenly had another moment of insight into the mystery that was his own personal guardian angel.

Cas was lonely.

He didn't want to believe it. Hell, he didn't know how to believe it. But it made sense. Sure, Cas had been sent on this stupid mission, but that didn't mean he wasn't missing home.

That didn't mean he was used to spending so much time without anyone.

For God's sake, because of Dean and his little brother, Cas had chosen to completely sever all ties with the other angels. He didn't have anyone like him to talk to or just be with. The closest thing he had were the Winchesters.

So quit being surprised, and give him some freaking attention, dumbass! Dean admonished himself.

"You, uh, you wanna help?"

He wasn't hallucinating when he saw an excited gleam surface in Cas's eyes. "I would appreciate the opportunity to observe you and Sam "in your element". If it is not any trouble to you." It was always easy to tell what phrases Castiel had picked up from Dean. Even if he didn't do the hand motion for air quotes, the boys could tell when they were there.

Dean grinned at the eager tone the angel was trying to suppress, and waved at Cas. "Move up here, if you're gonna sit in the damn car, dumby. I need to teach you the concept of riding and calling shotgun."

A tilt of the head, and a long explanation later, and Dean was feeling much better because he knew Cas was happier.

And, even if he wasn't a David Bowie man, Dean had to be grateful to the crazy singer for insights into a friggin' angel.

If that wasn't a sign of the Apocalypse, he didn't know what was.

fin.